


I Need you to Come here and Save Me

by Missy_Wilde



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Biting, Dirty Talk, First Kiss, First Meetings, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Rejection, Rough Kissing, Shameless Smut, Smut, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:42:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22605685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy_Wilde/pseuds/Missy_Wilde
Summary: Arthur was rejected by his Tinder-match and is totally devestated. Lucky for him, the British blue eyes on the other side of the bar belong to an expert in consoling sad boys.
Relationships: Arthur/Eames (Inception)
Kudos: 36





	I Need you to Come here and Save Me

**Author's Note:**

> My second work on AO3, yayyyy!!! I know it's been a while since the last time I wrote something in here, but I was kinda busy. (Very original excuse, I know) Anyway, it's an Inception oneshot again and one of the first smuts I've ever published. So pretty pretty please, don't beat me up thaaaaat hard. (But I can always use a little spank ;)) My next AU/oneshot...(whatever) will be about another fandom, so you don't get bored that bad. And last but not least: I'm NOT a native speaker. I will try to find possible mistakes in the next time and if you guys find some: blow the comments.  
> And of course: Give kudos, comment, share with your friends, grandparents and pets.  
> Enjoy :)  
> -xoxo Hope

Her profile had told him that her name was Leslie, twenty-five years old, nurse and originally from Boston. That she was tired of playboys and was now on the search of a gentleman. Her photo had told him that a pure soul was hidden behind the shy smile and the brown doe eyes. She herself had told him that she liked the way he could read her soul and how he made her smile every time she opened the phone. And she had told him that she would meet him at nine o'clock at Blacks' to have a drink with him. But yet Arthur sat there, mocked by the big, wooden clock of the bar, which told him it was half past ten. A half empty beer glas joined the engineer and the yellow liquid threw waves every time his impacient fingertips hit the counter. He thought about the most bizarre reasons why Leslie wasn't here, from a car crash to a kidnapping by aliens, but none of those scenaries changed the fact that he felt miserable. Arthur sighed a last time and looked in his pocket after his wallet, as a deep voice with a pleasant-sounding british accent said:

"What's the matter, darling?"

  
Arthur's eyes met blue ones on the other side of the bar.

"I...what?"

"I asked what the matter is."

It's been a while since he had been at Blacks', but Arthur was sure that he would have recognized the handsome stranger with the well groomed red-blonde hair and the sly smile.

"I-uhm...nothing."

The engineer sighed. It was ridiculous. He barely knew the man, but yet he had the feeling that he owed him an answer. "A girl."

"Oh, dear. Did she left you?"

"Not even that. She never appeared."

"Co-worker?

"Tinder-match.

"Seriously? You don't seem to me like a guy who goes on online dates.

"What do I seem like then?"

The barkeeper tildened his head and smiled fondly. "Like the good old-fashioned lover boy."

Arthur blushed slightly at the compliment.

"Oh, I like that colour on your face, darling. You don't seem that sad anymore. And if you still are", he tapped three times against the other males glas, "Cheer up. Your glas is half-full not half half-empty. I fill up on my costs. If she doesn't wanna talk to you, I do."

"With me? Uh...what about?"

"A name is enough for first. Tell me, are you Arthur?"

"Are you stalking me?"

The other chuckled darkly. "Not at all. This is the first time I see your pretty face 'round here. Old Black have told me about you. You fit into his describtion."

Peter Blackberry, known best as Old Black, Israeli immigrant, founder and owner of Blacks', was the first person Arthur had met in New York.

"Are you a new employee?", he asked.

"Nope, I own this place now."

"Oh my...I-I didn't know...did Black die?"

He got a bright laugh in reply. "God, no! Oldie was gonna stop to work, but none of his kids wanted to run this." He made a sprawling movement with his arm. "And because he've heard that I was on the search of a place for opening a bar, he contacted me. Now I'm here and he's all fine, trust me darling. You travel a lot, don't you? He've told me that you haven't been here in months. I'm sure you have a fancy job. Architect?"

"Almost. Engineer."

"Ah, close."

Arthur chuckled. "I know Black, he've surely told you every thing about me."

"Nah, not quite. He've left a few things out for you to tell me." He winked.

"So what have he told you?"

  
"That you are jewish, for examble and that you and your parents left Israel as you were very young. Tell me, do you speak Hebrew?"

. "כן אני כן"

"Does that mean "hey, you're smoking hot"?

"Oh, very funny."

"Oh, stop it, darling, you make me blush. Have you ever done a dirty talk in Hebrew?"

"Haven't tried it yet, no", the engineer confessed.

  
"Well you should, I'm already turned on", the other replied with a smirk and filled Arthur's glas up, which one blushed again.

  
"So...you basicly know everything about me and I don't even know the name of the savior of sad boys."

  
"Eames is the name, darling." He stuck out his hand and offered it to Arthur. He took the hand and shook it. Strong hand-grip, he noted, muscular palm, rough, like from hard work, maybe former roadworker, or carpenter.

  
"Eames from...?"

  
"Liverpool, but moved to London at seven years."

  
"So, you like-"

  
"-the Beatles? Love them."

  
"Favorite song?"

  
"Come together. Yours?"

  
"Yellow Submarine."

  
Eames laughed. "Really?"

  
"It's a great song", defended Arthur himself.

  
"Never mind. How old are you Arthur from Israel?"

  
"Twenty-seven. What about you, Sir Eames from Liverpool? Protector of the rejected boys?"

  
"A bit older. Thirty-two."

  
"Okay. So when did you move to the USA?"

  
"About...twelve years ago, I guess. Few years before the century change I lived first in Houston. Then I had several jobs in several states. Before I moved to New York, I lived in Seattle."

  
"Oh? Did you miss the rain?", Arthur teased.

  
"Maybe."

  
"What was your very first job?"

  
"In the states or back in England?"

  
"In general."

  
He took himself a moment to think about it.

  
"I was helping some kids out with their homework after school. It was a thing that was organized by their highschool."

  


  
"Homework in general or special subjects?"

  
"Most of them were struggling especially with maths and physics, so I had my job in that direction."

  
"And did the kids like you?"

  
"Oh, dear! How can you dare to ask that?!", the older male exclaimed, "Of course they did! I was the best teacher they ever could dream of!"

  
Both shared a laugh.

  
"What about you?"

  
"My first job? Hm...pole dancer." Arthur hid his grin in his glas.

  
"You? Ha, never. I'm pretty sure you always knew what you want to become, where you were going to end up and your parents made since you were born contacts for you. Where did you study? MIT?"

  
"No I studied in France...well...I guess you are right, my first job wish was astronaut. I'm sure my parents almost called the NASA." He giggled, before he got serious again. "But I mean most of the parents try to help their children as well as the can, right?"

  
Eames laughed, but this time it had an ironical and bitter hint.

  
"As you said, sweetheart, most of them."

  
The younger was about to ask what that meant, but Eames cut him off.

  
"Look darling, my shift is almost over."

  
"Oh." Arthur felt something in his chest cramp again and he swallowed hard. And Eames had even the boldness to laugh.

  
"Oh, don't give me that look. My plan was to take you back to my place."

  
"Oh. Uhm... I mean-oh!"

  
"Don't look that surprised! Have you really thought I would let a lost puppy like you behind?" The brit took his jacket from a chair behind the bar.

  
"And what if you are a serial killer and that's why you moved from state to state? Can I even trust that your name is Eames?", Arthur asked ironically.

  
He recived a dangerous smirk and glimmer in those sky blue eyes.  


"You can trust in one thing. Before I kill you, you're gonna have a lot of fun."  


* * *

  
"That is your home?" 

Arthur found himself in a small but charming flat, ruled by good taste. Most walls were painted in a passive nude colour, matching perfectly to the mostly black furniture, and the decoration, witnesses from all around the world, like the oriental looking, red carpet at the entrance or the african masks at the walls.  


"Seems so. Do you like it?"  


"It's charming. Doesn't look like the appartment of a serial killer at all."  


"Hm. There's also a celar I could show you."  


"Save it for later. I would like to see first what the bedroom of a killer looks like."  


Eames chuckled. "Second door on the left, darling. Go ahead."  


The dominating colour in the bedroom was a friendly white with a mint-green wall behind the headboard of the bed. The bed itself wasn't extraordinary big, but it was enough for two people having comfortable place next to each other. Suddenly, he heard a door shutting behind him. He turned around and stood face to face to Eames. The barkeeper came a little closer and rubbed callous fingertips against Arthur's cheek. The contact from skin against skin send electric sparks through his body and he could feel something come to life in his trousers.  


"Can I kiss you?", he asked lowly, lips hovering above Arthur's.  


"You didn't seem to me like a guy who asks before he kisses someone" the other male whispered back.  


"What do I seem like then?"  


The engineer tildened his head and smiled perky. "Like the good old-fashioned guy who takes what he want."  


"As you please..." 

From one moment to another, the gentle hands became rougher and pushed him, arms pinned above his head, against the wall. Hungry lips crashed into his, the passionate, steady pace, making a wet noise. Eames' thick lips tasted delicious, like alhohol, nicotin and peppermint gum.

  
The kiss became sloppier, openmouthed, tongues fought for dominance and the taste of blood laid heavy in their both mouthes. None of them cared, neither where it came from, nor from who it was. Arthur broke the contact for a moment gasping hard and leaning his head against Eames' chest.

  
He could smell his exquisite scent, the combination of sweat, his cologne and just the soft heat pooling out of his body. And the engineer just let himself go lost into it. He didn't mind that though their long talk, he actually didn't now the stranger by whom he he was pinned against the wall. He didn't mind that this whole thing was totally against his principles. Nobody have ever made him feel this way. He have never felt such rough, but yet worshiping hands on his body. And that was a fact, no matter what would happen the next morning.

  


  
His thoughts were interrupted by impatient hands tugging at his shirt and big, warm hands ghosting over his chest. Arthur hissed underneath his breath, as Eames pinched his left nipple between his thumb and his pointing finger. Soon, his shirt was lifted, so the barkeeper had access to tease it with his tongue.  
The engineer let his mouth fall open into an almost inaudible moan and grapped Eames nape, which one made quick work with the rest of the shirt and tossed it to the ground. Then he grapped the engineers belt loops and dragged him to the matress, where he fell smoothly into the fabric.

  
Before the barkeeper himself followed him, he pulled his shirt over his head.

 _Now if that isn't a sight for sore eyes_ , Arthur thought, looking at the muscular chest bared for him. It covered in several chains, reddish hair and beautiful ink art. He asked himself if he ever would to get the chance to admire all of them, but Eames didn't seem to want to waste any time.  
He leaned down and straddled the younger male's waist. Their lips met again. Shortly, sweetly. But then, Arthur felt a soft, slick pressure against his neck, finding it's way down. Against his shoulder, his collar bone and back again upwards to his throat, where he mumbled softly:

  
"Have you ever done this before, sweetheart? With a guy?" The engineer thought about for a second, but it was rather hard with Eames' hot breath against his skin and a hand that was sneaking it's way along his thigh.

  


"In college, but...ah-" The hand that just have had been at his upper thigh had quickly made it's way to Arthur's aching problem. It felt for him like torture, because in fact, Eames was doing nothing. His hand just laid warm and lazy between his legs. "-just a-a hand- and blowjob here and there...oh for the love of god, Eames, just do something!"  


"So you let the littIe French boys touch your pretty thing, huh?", that bastard smirked, ignoring Arthur's complains and began a to squeeze the bulge a little here and there and to curl up a finger to massage the skin behind Arthur's ball.  


"Let's see if I can touch it like they did."  


"Oh, f-fuck...E-eames, please." He didn't recognized the hoarce, fading voice that came out of his mouth as his own.  


"Course, darling...why haven't you asked earlier, hm?"  
The barkeeper kissed him a last time on the lips. "Turn over, please."  
Arthur let go a shaky breath and did as he was told.  


"Good boy", the older man praised and smirked again. He slid his hands down his spine, leaving trails of fire on Arthur's already heatened skin.  
Soon, he reached the fabric of the younger's trousers and pushed it including the boxers down, but just a little, barely enough to tease. A grunt from Arthur's side echoed through the room, as Eames kissed tenderly the small of his back.  


"Baby, you are beautiful."  


He pushed the trousers further down and felt a shiver going through the body underneath him. The other male have never felt as exposed to anyone as in that moment, where he felt his cheeks beeing spreaded and cold air hitting his drenched hole.  


"Hey...", Eames laid one hand on Arthur's right shoulder, rubbing it gently, "I'm gonna go easy, okay? Can you give me lube and a condom? Second drawer in the nightstand on your left."

The engineer gave him what he had ordered, nervousity growing even stronger.  
Eames noticed it and turned Arthur's head to kiss him.  


"The key is relaxing, darling. I'm not going to hurt you in anyway and if you say stop, we stop immediatly. I'm not going to leave."  


Arthur looked at him. He could feel everything inside him begging to be touched, loved, just made feeling good, but he also was scared as hell about opening himself to foreign pleasure or even worster; foreign pain.

  
But still, he nodded shyly, at Eames pacient look in his face. He entrust him some how his body, trust him not to hurt him.

  
The barkeeper focused his attention again on the wet ass infront of him. He slicked one finger with more than enough lube and let in that way, cold drops fall on Arthur's skin, which one twiched slightly at the sudden temperature change. But that wasn't to compare in any way with the sensation, as Eames' finger touched his rim and pushed itself slowly pass it.

  
"Sh-shit", Arthur breathed, so overwhelmed, so desperaded that it almost didn't sound human. The older man felt him clench around his finger, so he pulled the other male by the shoulder close to him and reached for his swollen length.

  
His warm, dry palm became quickly wet and sticky from the pre-come dripping down Arthur's dick. He took his time, wanted to make his boy to feel safe with him, to be loved. How he already called him _his boy_ , Eames thought surprised. This seemed not to be a premire only for Arthur.

  
Eames continued stroking the younger male, slowly, up and down not missing to thumb the head and the slit. He did so, until he felt Arthur go loose under his touch. But not just that. He felt how Arthur grinded himself almost unvoluntary on the older man's covered erection, what made Eames tighten his grip on Arthur's cock.  


"Hm-E-eames..."  


"It's okay, darling, I'm here. I'm here, okay? Wanna go further?"  


"Please...oh please."  


Eames did with pleasure what he was asked for, watching fascinated how his finger disappeared into the engineer. Thinking if he maybe curled his finger up, just bringing it into the right ankle and waiting for Arthur's reaction...  


"Ah-f-fuck oh...god-Eames-hm!"  


"Feeling good, baby yeah?" He kept his finger just like that, maybe just rubbing a bit over the same spot.  


"Ha-go-good? I don't no h-how I could live without this."  


"Hm. Maybe you don't have to anymore", Eames smirked.  


"What do you-fuck!" Arthur couldn't finish his sentence as he felt now two fingers moving in scissoring motion inside him, never missing to hit his sweetes spot.  


"E-eames...I need...I need-god", he huffed after a while.  


"What is it, baby? Talk to me."  


"Please...I need you...inside me..."  


"I thought you would never ask, darling. Turn over."  


Arthur hissed the feeling of emptyness inside of him, as Eames pulled out, so he could flip over. The barkeeper layed his hands on his own belt, a heavy leathern one to open it, but the younger male had other plans.  


He laid his hands on Eames', which ones felt unbearebal soft and small so close to his leaking dick. It drove him crazy, but he had the patience to hold on and wait for Arthur to explain.  


"I-I want to do that, please", the engineer said, all sudden very shy.  


The barkeeper tildened his head and smiled fondly at Arthur. "Do whatever you want, sweetheart." He leaned back a bit and let him do his work. The other male swallowed hard at the sight of Eames' erection so close to him.  


"Like to see what you're doing to me?"  


Arthur didn't respond, because he simply didn't know what to. Of course he did, who couldn't at the view of this stone hard package? So he quickly opened the belt and tore the trousers down.  
The tight Calvin Klein briefs framed the bulge infront of him perfectly and though the fabric was black, Arthur could clearly see that it had wet spots. He lowered his head a bit and drew a narrow stripes with his tongue over them.  


"Fuck", Eames looked down at Arthur and it was hard for him not to simply grap the back of his head and just grind and fuck into his pretty, innocent mouth. He was shy, probably because of the slight lack of experience.  


"If you could just look at yourself...god you're absolutely gorgeous...", he petted the younger male's hair, which blushed in a bright crimson colour and started, like to hide it, to tear the briefs with his theeth down. It was a bit hard, but worked with the help of Eames.  


A long, pink cock sprang free as the briefs laid finally on the floor and Arthur licked his lips at the view of it. He slowly started to lick up and down the base, striping his balls. It took a while until he finally give the head a tentative kiss, linking eyes with Eames, asking with his gaze if he was doing it right.  


"Go ahead, baby...you're doing great."  


Than encouraged Arthur to take in, inch by inch, Eames' into his mouth.  


"Oh, fuck", cursed the latter underneath his breath.  


He couldn't take the entire length into his mouth, so he stroked the rest with one hand and massaged the barkeeper's balls, what made the latter to buck his unvoluntary. Arthur gagged at the sudden pressure added to his throat and he pulled away to cough.  


"Shit...darling I'm so sorry..."  


"I-it's fine...really..." The engineer dryed his tearing eyes with the back of his hand.  


Eames' pulled Arthur up to him and kissed him. "Really...I apologiese..."  


"Hey, as long you aren't a sadistic guy that fucks my throat sore, because it makes you horny to see me suffocate, you are forgiven."  


The older man laughed out loud. "I'm not."  


"Well then, we should go ahead, because if you don't hurry up to get inside me, I'm going to turn into a sadist."  


"If that is so, Mr. Grey, on hands and knees", Eames replied grinning, slapping Arthur slightly on his butt as he followed the older man's order, which grapped the condom and ripped it open with his theeth, pulling it over his desperate waiting cock.  


The younger male savoured the wet sounds Eames' hand made as he slicked up his length. Arthur bit his lips, he felt the want burning him up from the inside to outside. Relief filled him up as strong hands gripped his hips and a heavy pressure pushed against his waiting hole. He knew this would feel way stronger than the fingers that were put inside of him so far and he moaned in expectation of what was comming.  


"You ready?"  


Arthur huffed a laugh. "Fuck me already, old man."  


"Hm...naughty little boy...you shouldn't have called me old, sweetie."  


"Because...?" But then he could feel it. Eames shoved himself inside of him, not especially rough or fast, but without breaking the penetration and without any mercy. How much Eames would have loved to just dig his dick into Arthur's tight, pretty ass for teasing him. But didn't want to ruin the younger's first time with pain.  
But he didn't wait too long to start to move agonizing shalow by taking his time to explore the narrow, hot channel, to feel it, memorize the details.  


The other male didn't mind this treatment, but it was way too slow and to gentle. "Eames..."  


"Wanna know how good the old man can give it to you, huh?"  


"Eames...fucking please..."  


"Eames what?", he gave a quick, hard trust, making Arthur moan loudly, "Is there something I can get you, darling? Tell me, beg for it."  


"Just-ah...make it hard...'till I scream...pl-please."  


"Ah. I get the problem now. Little French boys and chicks never gave it like this to you. You don't need going easy, right? You wanna be touched, so you can feel it. You want someone to see how starved you are. Isn't it true?"  


Arthur opened his mouth, to protest, to agree, he didn't know yet, but Eames kept talking.  


"Don't worry baby boy. I'm going to put it on you like you want it."  


And that he pulled out to flip him, to throw his spreaded legs over his shoulder and to rock back it. Hard. Time slowed down, slipped, cracked, got lost in to darkness and heat. No words were exchanged, the moans, the panting, the wet sound of skin slapping skin, that all was enough.  


Eames eventually would chase the engineer's lips in between the flames and bite them until he could taste blood. His moves were first only ruled by his desire to please Arthur. In. Out. In. Out But then, both felt how all changed the more familiar their bodies became to each other. The thrusts, not only Eames' also Arthur's when he pushed back, were not ruled anymore by pure lust. They worked together like an exact machine, a rhythm rushed through their veins that just the both of them knew.  


Nails digged into skin and it felt like magic, power, energie, whatever one like to call it, how close they were, everything narrow and tight, sewed together. And as promised, it made Arthur scream, everytime Eames found the right ankle inside him, worshiping, teasing, abusing his prostate.  


"So...cl...hm-Eames-ah...I-I have-I need t-to..." Tears of pleasure blurred his view. Heat welled up his stomage and the pleasure felt like a heavy pressure in his chest and dick.  


"'s alright...cum...spill it for me princess....",the other male grunted, grapped Arthur's dick and jerked him to the hard, fast pace of his thrusts. He needed him to cum, to feel the heat and the proof of his joy on his skin. He rutted steadier, hunting it, provocing it.  


Then, finally, with a quiet sound between moan and sob, the younger man came, all over Eames' fist, so hard it even leaked into the bedsheets. The older man kept working him through his orgasm, but shallower, so it didn't hurt or overstimulated Arthur.  


But the way the other male clenched around him as he came, didn't make him last long. He bit into the younger males collar bone, as he filled the condom up with his seed and collapsed on top of Arthur.  


His skin felt hot and sticky on the younger males, soft somehow. He laid one hand on Eames' nape and let his fingers slip through from sweat dark hair. His other hand laid lazy beside him on the matress, while the barkeeper's arms were wrapped around Arthur's thin body. Holding him close. They felt how their breathing slowed down and the furious heat was pushed away by soft warmth.  


Eames pulled dispite the younger males protests out, threw the condom into trash in the bathroom and soaked a towel in cool water.  


Arthur watched his back and the way he walked as he left. There was confidence craved into the strong muscles, but not in a bragging way. Cocky, maybe but never agorant.  
The engineer had seen the scars on Eames' arms and hands. 

_He is a fighter_ , he thought with sleep clouded brain.

  
By the time the barkeeper was back, Arthur was already half asleep. Eames spreaded his thighs gently and cleaned the skin betwenn with the towel. He had always doubted the existence of god, angels and stuff, but Arthur's small silhouette, skin glowing golden with sweat, cum and the low light from the bathroom was the closest somebody could ever come to be an angel. He stroked the sticky darkbrown hair from his forehead, before heading again to bathroom to shut the light.  


As Eames came back to lay down besides Arthur, he felt a gentle hand on his hip bone.  


"This one is beautiful. Where did you get it?"  


He looked down on Arthur's fingers tracing the outline of a foggy full-moon rising behind a dark tree covered in light-pink cherry blossoms, all together made in a chinese art style.  


"In Tokio." He turned to the younger males sheeply smiling face and laid a hand on his belly to draw little circles on the warm skin. Arthur shivered softly under the caress.  


"Never been there...is it nice?" "Yeah. It's very pretty." "I want to go with you to Tokio one day...", Arthur said, eye lids half closed. "I'll show you around", Eames kissed the top the other man's head, "Good night, Arthur." "'night..." And then he was asleep. Eames kept on watching him for a while. Yeah, he would truly enjoy going with him to Tokio. 

**Author's Note:**

> Titel inspired by the song "Of to the raises" by Lana Del Rey.


End file.
